


Someone Else's Bed

by WillowRose99



Series: X-Files First Times [3]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Domestic Fox Mulder/Dana Scully, F/M, Fox Mulder Angst, Implied Fox Mulder/Dana Scully, Morning After, Mulder tries to run away from another problem, POV Fox Mulder, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:40:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27130057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillowRose99/pseuds/WillowRose99
Summary: When Mulder wakes up in a bed that's not his own, he starts to overthink. Until Scully walks into the room wearing his shirt.
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Series: X-Files First Times [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1928902
Comments: 5
Kudos: 58





	Someone Else's Bed

When Mulder wakes, it isn’t on his old leather couch, legs sticking over the armrest and feeling like he’s only fallen asleep seconds ago to the sound of whatever crappy comedy show is on the T.V. Instead, he’s lying in a bed, head on a soft pillow and wrapped in sheets that are fresh and smell like lemons, chest bare and hair ruffled like someone had put their fingers through it recently. 

He doesn’t move for a while, head spinning through all the events of last night, Scully and Mulder crashing through Scully’s bedroom door, lips against skin, hands against hips and chests and soft moans that made Mulder’s heart swell as he pulled them from Scully’s mouth. He shuts his eyes again for a moment and sucks in a long breath before breathing out slowly, fingers clenching the twisted sheets and listening to the sound of a stovetop kettle being turned on.

Mulder didn’t know what to do, how to react in a situation he swore to himself would never happen; that he would never land in the same bed as his work partner, his best friend and only confidant. He swore he would never put either of them in this position where they suddenly have to rewrite the rules of their six-year relationship as if the night before had ruined everything. 

Yet, he was jumping to conclusions, scenarios running through his head of all the things to come, the pained silences between two people who didn’t know what they were to the other, the sleepless nights in crappy hotel rooms wishing Scully could be lying beside him even though he knew it was wrong, the days forward where she wouldn’t make eye contact with him or avoid speaking to him as much as she could because she felt uncomfortable and violated and…he had to get out of there, out of that room and away from the mess he had made. 

The FBI agent stumbled away from the bed, still half tangled in the soft covers, desperately looking around for his jeans and shirt, the shoes he kicked into the corner of the room and his keys and wallet. He found those things easy enough, in a pile at the end of the bed, nearly matching a pile of Scully’s clothes; skirt, blouse, blazer, stockings and underwear, all heaped together and forgotten about. And just for a moment he stopped, looking down at the discarded clothes and thought to himself; he was the one that pulled off those garments from her body, ripped the blouse away so aggressively in his haste that the small white buttons went flying and Scully laughed against his skin at his eagerness to get her bare before him. 

Mulder had his shoes and jeans on, keys and wallet stuffed into his pockets, but he couldn’t find his damn shirt. It wasn’t on the floor, hanging off a piece of furniture, under the bed or even in the bathroom connected to Scully’s bedroom, and suddenly his escape plan was foiled, his recklessly planned departure no longer feasible. 

Scully stepped into her bedroom then, two cups of coffee in her hands and her mouth opening gently in a yawn, watching Mulder stagger around for something. Her lips formed an amused smile, and she walked over to her side of the bed, placing the two cups of coffee on the side table and rubbing her eyes to rid them of the left over sleep. She knew that Mulder had heard her come in, because he stopped moving for a moment to glance over at her quickly before searching the room again, but she also knew that he was distracted and even possibly scared, because his mouth was pinched shut, a picture of anxiety and his hands on his bare hips with his fingers tapping against his skin told her everything she needed to know.

“Hey, have you seen my shirt?” Mulder’s voice was thick with something that Scully couldn’t pick up, and he wouldn’t turn to look at her as he zipped up his jeans and buckled his belt. So, she waited, took a sip from her coffee and sat on the bed, knees curled up underneath her and shirt falling over her thighs. “I just…I can’t find it and I’ve looked every for it and I know you probably want me out of here so we can pretend this never happened but-.”

“Mulder, look at me.” Scully’s voice made him jump, but he turned around nonetheless and when he saw what was in front of him, his mouth opened and shut, and opened again like a fish gasping for air, speechless and nearly in a trance. 

Scully was wearing his shirt…Scully was wearing his shirt that probably smelt like him from the day before and had an ink stain on the front and had a hole in the sleeve from constant wear and…Mulder nearly lost all sense. He stepped closer until he was nearly falling against the bed, forgetting that it was in between him and Scully, and she smiled at him in a nervous and worried way that made his eyes go wide.

“I don’t want you to leave, Mulder. And I don’t want to act as if what we did last night didn’t happen, because it did. There’s no getting around that, you know that.” Mulder hung his head in response to Scully’s statement, and with a sigh, sat down on the bed next to her. “Look, if you want to leave, then that’s fine but…”

“But what, Scully?” He turned to the red-haired woman, watched as she looked up at him with her wide eyes and then glanced away, focusing on the brown liquid in her cup, the steam rising to warm her face. 

“I want you to stay, Mulder. I really, really want you to stay here, in my apartment, in my bed. Even if it’s just for this morning or even the rest of our lives, I just want you to stay. Please…” Scully’s words were soft and quiet, muffled with emotion and said in a way that pierced right through Mulder’s heart, made his skin feel warm and like for once in his god damn life, he was loved, he was wanted, he was needed. And Mulder didn’t feel those things often. 

The brown-haired agent collapsed into Scully, twisting his arms around her hips and pulling her into him, nearly knocking the cup of coffee to the ground in the process. But he had Scully grinning brightly, a gentle hum escaping from her lips as she pressed her lips to his jaw with his fingers crawling up under the shirt to press against her waist. 

“Then I’ll stay, Scully. For as long as you want me, as long as you’ll have me.” Mulder kissed her then, kissed her like he had wanted to the whole six years they had been partners, with so much love and need and want and passion that it made Scully’s toes curl and her hair stand up on end, made her cheeks go pink and her fingers clench into the skin of his shoulder, warm and tight underneath her grip. 

The two of them stayed in that bed for the rest of the day, only leaving their place of peace and safety to get more coffee and the pizza Scully ordered for dinner. And for once, neither felt like running, neither felt like they needed to escape before they were trapped in something they couldn’t handle. They were together, wrapped up in each other and the sheets of Scully’s bed, and everything for a small moment in their chaotic lives was perfect.


End file.
